


grime.

by mansionpartys



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: - if you like squint, Bath Sex, Breeding Kink, Choking, Creampie, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face Slapping, Humiliation, It's time to make your favs nasty af - AGAIN!, Mentions of Cults, Michael is out here to fuck you filthy and get you pregnant, Spanking, Spit Kink, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Verbal Humiliation, Wax Play, also Michael threatens your unborn kid so BIG warning there guys, and GOD there is A LOT of it, be safe & sane babes!, be warned lol, boy doesn't even care if you live or die either so ..., hello! I'm back!!!!, mentions of satanism, michael just straight up chokes you with the laces that were in your gown :), not as nasty yet but - just wait for part 2 lmao, remember when i was like: if you squint breeding kink, that's it!, well i'm a filthy slutty liar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-01-11 19:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18430193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansionpartys/pseuds/mansionpartys
Summary: you do what you're good at.





	1. grime.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally back! I might disappear again once the new intake for my UNI starts, but, I thought I would post this now before I forgot. Cross posted to my Tumblr.

From time to time you ponder, had they been right? Had Michael been using you for self-centered and obligatory needs? Perhaps. Had you let yourself fall victim to the sweetened words and talents of a man who also claims himself to be the Antichrist and more of less commits a homicide every few minutes, yes.

The simple answer for most of those is, yes. Michael had a way with words, a certain charm that could convince a thousand virgins to lay themselves at his feet and beg for him to take their innocence. You admit, you may have become slightly narcissistic when he ‘chose’ you. To be the one that the Antichrist demands by his side day and nightly, the only one to grace his blood red silk sheets and share both thirst of the flesh and blood from your veins. It was a high, a sickening high that you had become too attached till it was slightly disconcerting.

So, to be asked to bathe with him was nothing of the commonplace, it was something you marked as especially intimate and a procedural only you had the grace to admit you took place in. Who else could say they’d washed his hair, scrubbed away at his chest and back? Not many, you think.

“I missed you today” Michael sighs.

He doesn’t need to look at you, head tilted back and eyes shut, as he makes this declaration. He knows you comprehend fully that he is authentic, speaking nothing but fact. He peaks an eye open when you still your hand on his chest.

“Are you toying with me, Michael?”

He chuckles, “Is genuine fondness for my dove no longer allowed in such a sacred place as my own bed chambers? Would you rather I spew hateful things from my mouth about how you had embarrassed me earlier this week?”

Michael huffs, “Do not ruin this. It’s the only peace I’ve come about. I don’t need to hear your sniveling”

You furrow your brows, Michael is un-phased a sneer playing on his mouth, he thinks he’s won. He thinks he’s shut you up.

“Ruin this? I asked a question out of jest Michael and you retort with being a dick!” you berate.

He tuts, “Such a mouth, hand me that bar of soap perhaps I should aid you in washing it out”

He moves his position; he’s no longer peaceful. He’s sitting straight, arms hanging slackly over the edges. You move to leave, throwing the wet cloth at him.

“Sit down”

It’s with a complaint you drop back into your seat in his lap, water wading over the sides and swaying you both somewhat. “Where is this boldness coming from? Why do you all of a sudden feel this is a suitable way to speak to me? Have I been too merciful with you lately?”

You scowl, “That’s not what this is about Michael”

He grasps up, hand catching in your hair. “Is this about us? Have I not been filling your cunt enough?”

Michael laughs, deafeningly. Warmth rises in your face. Michael had been rather inattentive in the sex part of your relationship; things had become more chaotic and he was required to do more work. You’d never be one to protest, you knew how much this all meant to him and you did your best to support him unconditionally either way. It just was becoming rather apparent as of now how long it had been, once he had revealed it you felt a pulsation between your thighs.

“Do you have to be so vulgar?”

He leans forward, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, teeth biting into the flesh and pulling slightly as he drew away, “You don’t like it? Perhaps I need to wash your mouth out for different reasons – lying”

Michael thrusts you slightly, you have to grip the sides of the tub to keep from falling from your place on his thighs. The air has become dense all of a sudden as you realize the game he is playing at; Michael is clearly getting into the certain mindset and you’re not one to deny that on any occasion.

“Do you truly wish to know why I’m upset? You mentioned earlier this week?” You take a deep breath, “I wasn’t the only one, you embarrassed me too, you marched me around like common livestock to the Cult and then you had the audacity to ask if I wanted to engage in public ceremonial fucking!”

He giggles, again. It then settles into a grin, “That’s what all this is about? You’re upset I treated you, allegedly, like cattle? Maybe next time to really piss you off I’ll pierce your nose and lead you around”

You push at his chest; he slams back into the porcelain tub. “This is not a joke Michael! I am confiding in you!”

He lurches forward, right hand enveloped around your wrist in a bruising grip. Face like stone, eyes unwavering, “You keep your hands to yourself or I will cut them off at the wrists, whore. Perhaps I have been looking at this incorrectly it’s not your mouth that needs to be washed, it’s your head. Your whole head has to be removed. You pretty little idiot”

Michael lets go of your wrist rather crudely, he’s looking at you arrogantly. He knows for this time, he’s won. Insulting Michael at the gathering had never crossed your mind truthfully, he’d never pulled you up on it, which was out of character, it seems now it had been building. All of it just building until everything bubbled to the surface, you wished it hadn’t been in the bath, perhaps then you won’t been able to defend yourself better.

“Nothing to say?” He pouts, “Have I hurt my doves’ feelings?”

A slender finger reaches out to touch your cheekbone, his fingers bejeweled. He never took his rings off, not even in sleep.

“Would you like me to fuck you? Would that make you feel better, place my fingers knuckle deep into your cunt until you can feel my rings clawing at your flesh?” Michael seems turned on by the idea as he moves his hips in a rotating motion upward. “Ripping you from inside out, just like our son will when the time comes”

It’s an odd transition into speaking of the future that lies ahead, you always thought perhaps he would use you as a concubine, you’d be the only one willing you assumed but, now you see he truly wishes you to bear his children for more than just a chore or prophecy.

“No” Michael interrupts your thought process, “You don’t deserve any of that, after the scenes you’ve caused inside and outside of this room, you’ll be lucky I don’t replace you. There are thousands if not millions of men and women like you who would die to take your place, who would fill this tub with their blood just to have me tell them they’ve been good”

Michael nuzzles himself into your throat, inhaling the natural scent.

“Michael” you voice is frail at this point, quiet and breaking.

He sneers, “Now you beg? Now you wish to be forgiven? What happened to your attitude? To the disrespect you deemed appropriate to use with me? It’s all disappeared now, you’ve revealed your true self, a sheep in wolves clothing”

His left hand comes up to grip your throat, painfully so. Your hands grasp his own in a silent plea.

“I could watch you shutdown, hold you like this until the light fades from your eyes. Don’t mistake me for a moment, I would enjoy every single second, I’d become almost like you, cumming without even needing to be touched”

You shudder at the thought, hips bucking involuntarily toward Michael, eyes fluttering at you grind yourself against his hardened cock. Michael removes his hand, placing himself back against the tub. He seems to have grown tired of his own games.

As you cough and grip your own throat, Michael has already placed his hands on your arse to lift you further up, one hand leaves to grasps his cock and steady himself.

“Go on then”

“What?” you splutter.

It feels like you’ve been passed out for hours, you had spaced out whilst he was preparing himself.

“You wanted to fuck me, didn’t you? Fuck me, I’ll decide if you’re worthy enough to leave this tub with your fucking limbs attached. Even if you do, there’s no guarantee I won’t replace you” he pressed his lips to your cheek as he lowers you down, “I may even let you watch”

Following his statement, he pulls you down to the hilt. You let out a loud moan, hands bracing themselves on Michael's shoulders, fearing you’ll fall forward and lay limp in a complete daze.

You wait patiently for his shallow thrusts, you feel nothing. It’s not long before you realize Michael isn’t going to do any of the hard work, he expects you to please him. To prove to him his time is worth being spent on you, this is a form of punishment. After giving yourself a few more minutes you begin slowly, concentrated on letting yourself become used to his size once again. Becoming bolder and bolder as your back straights up and you’re able to push loose strands of hair from your face.

Michael falters your confidence slightly; he’s not even looking at you. He looks bored, unimpressed and you begin to become jealous.

You brain rushes through as many thoughts as possible but, the one that sticks, the one that seems impossible to shake is the fact he could be thinking about anyone else. That he’s not thinking about any of the times you’d been together or even this time currently, no he’s thinking about some other girl who didn’t speak back and completely disrespect him.

“Michael” you attempt in getting his attention. “Michael”

He mocks, “I didn’t ask you to talk, I requested you to do what you do greatest. Ride my cock until I fill you to the point it’s dripping from between your thighs, till your cunt burns and feels wholly and entirely used” he rests closer, lips ghosting over your own, holding a gaze. “Until you feel shattered, until you are unknown but the grime underneath my feet, existing to aid me”

Holding you stare for a few moments longer, Michael then laves his tongue over your lips, a thread of saliva linking the two. He delivers a violent thrust upwards and watches as you quicken your pace hands dug tight into the flesh of his shoulders, teeth sunk into your lower lip. Eyes rolled back at the last of his saliva covering your mouth and his cock filling your cunt. Michael sneaks a hand up from your thighs to your arse, palming and using his strength to rise you quicker.

He’s pulling and spanking at the skin, threatening to do worse if you don’t hurry up, demanding he can feel himself becoming soft even though you can feel the pulse of his cock each time he reaches further and deeper inside.

Michael pulls you forward, pressed to his chest as he begins thrusting up into your cunt. A hand splayed across your lower back as he peers over your shoulder in an attempt to see himself vanishing and reemerging. Your mouth won’t stop spilling sounds between whines and moans, your hands are clasped onto a bicep each as you feel yourself become jelly at the wild thrusting.

Michael stills himself, thighs tensing, a hand entangling itself into your hair keeping you pressed flush against his hammering chest.

You attempt to move your hips, to achieve your own orgasm. Michael seems to have already made up his mind as he lifts you from his now softening cock.

“Michael”

“You really are a pretty little idiot. You thought I was going to let you cum? You’re the devil’s whore, you only get enjoyable things when you, yourself, are enjoyable” he cups your chin between his thumb and fore-finger, “Who just now, was acting like a insubordinate, spoiled, cunt. Hm?” He jerks at your chin roughly, eyes narrowing, “Count yourself lucky we’re in the bathtub, otherwise I’d have you licking up every drop you just spilled. Now, leave me. We will exchange more of this tomorrow; I don’t trust myself not to tear your heart from your torso”

“Please” you plead, “Michael I’m sorry. I should’ve never spoken to you like that, My King”

You place a hand through his lengthy tresses, pressing your foreheads together in a last-minute decision. You couldn’t lose him.

Michael reaches for a candle the was sitting beside the bath, illuminating you both in a golden hue.

“Tell me how sorry you are, pray”

He helps gather your locks atop your head, hand grasping them tightly as you take the candle and hold it perpendicular to your left shoulder, you raise the candle as you begin to pour the wax down your back. “Bless me, O’Dark Lord”


	2. alters to ashes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please make me have it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is all self indulgent. not sorry.

Michael and you hadn’t spoken since the bathtub debacle. Though, the scars from the wax on your back had never let you forget.

Michael had believed you were going easy on yourself, not showing your true self to him. It didn’t take much thought for him to grab the candle himself and in the words of Michael himself, “You will carry the scars of your disobedience every day until your last day”

You’d made one of two attempts to bring up your relationship and what had been bothering you these past few weeks. Why only two? He had done what he promised.

Michael had replaced you.

Not only did it make you angry beyond belief but it upset you to no end as well. It didn’t help he’d call you in, smug behind his fancy wooden desk, cock pushed down her throat as he made you stand there, asked pointless questions so you were forced to watch, for some minutes on end.

He’d invite her to the dinners, she took your place beside him and you were sat down the far end, you didn’t mind so much with that arrangement, at least you wouldn’t have to bear witness to Michael cooing at her and sharing flirtatious small talk.

You could sit in your bubble, pretending that none of this was happening, trying to erase the memories of Michael from your brain. Every touch, every word whispered, every secret shared.

You were stupid, naïve. Michael had taken you in promised that the future that lied ahead only had room for you and the family you were going to create. That he could feel, in his heart a tugging, a pulling to yours. He knew you were his other half and you would walk together hand in hand across the burnt plains. And you were stupid enough to believe every fucking word of it, all because he gave you nice things, fucked you.

You ask to be moved to another part, beg to clean anywhere but his office and bedroom. Of course, confusion is evident in everyone, they’re still under the impression you’re Michael’s pet, he’s never stated any different and so your pleas are met with “trouble in paradise” jokes and hearty laughs.

It’s when you’re dutied with cleaning his office one day that he decides to speak with you. You’d only agreed to do it because he was out of office, seems he lied to get you alone. Not surprising nor uncommon.

“You’re truly a fine maid. Why did you never do these things for me before?” He’s leering over your shoulder, watching as you scrub a stain off the wood.

You’d been fucked enough on the desk to able to place it perfectly. You’d liked the idea at first of Michael just getting his cocked sucked from time to time, but knowing now, he actually fucks her…

“Because, I wasn’t you’re fucking maid” you spit.

He tuts, a hand pressing into your back. “Someone didn’t learn their lesson, have those scars healed? We can start a fresh batch”

You whimper, the pain unbearable with how hard he’s pushing into the small pink welts.

“You know better than anyone than to speak to me that way. You’ve come into contact first hand with the consequences and” he pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, lips pressing into the shell from behind, “lived to tell the tale.”

You spin, you want to create distance between you and Michael. How close you both are, it’s too dangerous, far, far too dangerous.

You miss him and you want nothing more than for him to sink his teeth so far into the skin in your shoulder that blood seeps from the wound and you vision blurs.

“Would you like me to clean up for you and … the woman who has been occupying you?” you flip the subject.

Michael sneers, “What woman?”

You brain throws around a few nasty things before you answer, “The one from … under the desk”

It’s then Michael laughs, clicking in his brain.

“You mean the cock warmer?” he sighs, pouting and running a finger over your cheekbone, “I should have known you’d become jealous. She means nothing to me dove, just somewhere tight and warm for me to rest until you recover. You understand, as the Antichrist I have so much tension to release that, sometimes I need someone to help me do just that”

You don’t understand. And Michael trying to justify it makes your blood boil.

“You’re an asshole!”

You watch, almost as if time has slowed, his expressions change. He’s still got that stupid fucking pout on his face and slowly, millisecond by millisecond you watch his brows furrow, lip curl and eyes change into an almost panic inducing stare. The hand he was using to softly trace patterns on your cheekbone has taken its place around your throat, he’s pushed you back into the hard frame of his desk.

“Don’t even try it. I will make sure every surface in this room is covered in your guts before you even get the chance” Michael sneers, “Why all this jealousy? You brought this upon yourself, this sudden attitude. It’s sexy, a chase behind closed doors but, when you bring this shit out there to all of them, it’s then I must make an example. You half-arsed your apology looking for me to take sympathy on you! Did you truly believe I’d hold you close and tell you not to worry about it when you’re running everything, I’ve fucking built?! All this. All this because I showed you off to those less than worthy, because you” He laughs, “Are a fragile little, fucking, bitch”

When he finishes his monologue, you can see the veins in his forehead bulging, the red tinge of his face. Michael was truly angry. This isn’t usual, playful, Michael. Before he was humouring you getting a rise from your disobedience.

“You don’t love me, do you?” it’s a whisper, broken words spoken into the air left to drift.

“Love has nothing to do with it. You lost that right when you acted the way you have; you cannot expect me to let you go unpunished simply because you’ve had my cock in you more than once. It shows favouritism, leads people to rebel. It must be equal on all fronts”

Michael lets you go; you fall back against the desk. Breathing ragged, you truly had upset Michael. And while you’re more than aware of his childish temperament, of his sit excuses and terrible acts of punishment he bestows upon you. You want to beg for his forgiveness.

Nothing has been more hurtful to you, not the wax, the branding he had left on your shoulder, the whipping, nothing compared to how your heart felt when he tossed you aside. When you felt you had disappointed him?

“Michael” you cling to his arm, his back it turned. “Please forgive me, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry Michael please”

He sneers, backhanding you with such force he may have broken your jaw. “You beg now? Pathetic cunt. You forget who my father is, who I am” he smirks, chuckles to himself, “I’d be worried, worried that you’d leave me if you didn’t love all this, the chase, the abuse. You like to be used, to feel-“

Michael licks from your chin to where he has busted your lip, lips attaching and sucking as he groans, “Dirty”

You whimper, the pain from his rough abuse to the open wound on your lip, the things he’s saying without fear of judgement and certainly no sign of shyness. It reminds you of why you first fell for Michael, what led you into his arms, he promised to absolve you of sin and then fill you right back up again with it. Literally.

“Now” he pauses, pushing hair behind his ear, the waves flowing like liquid gold, “Let me hear an apology, not to my father. Not my kind. To me”

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment isn’t even the word you’d use to describe how you’re feeling. Your cunt pulses, your panties cling to you like a second skin and you can feel the wetness run down your inner thigh like the tears escaping you the fateful night. It was never enough for Michael, it was always more, more, more. He needed his ego stroked, he wanted to know that if the world came crashing down tomorrow, you’d be thinking of him, that if at night, need be, your cunt would be waiting and ready, that you were **his.**

“I’m sorry Michael. For disobeying you, embarrassing you, making you look weak in front of everyone. I should know better, especially if we are to walk as one, as equals”

He hums, “And?”

“A-and?” you sputter, nervousness succumbing you.

What else was there to say?

“And,” he continues, “that you’re a petulant little cunt who lives to serve me and only me. Who weeps wishing for my praise, to shower you with compliments even though you’ve done nothing to deserve even a drop of kindness” He corners you against the desk, hands clasped behind his back, stature tall and straight, “that if asked you’d lick the dirt from my boot, who’s so used, bruised and scared that the only person who could possibly want you would be me. That you’re a filthy, disgusting, sadist”

You whimper again for the second time, Michael chuckles at this, lips pressed to your cheek. He knows he’s got you in a box, that now he’s just playing with his prey instead of putting it out of its misery. You wish he would let you leave, take any small shred of dignity you have left and just, go. But Michael has never been that way, and you’re sure he never will be.

Michael steps away from you, for what feels like the thousandth time that night. You want to reach out, grasp for him against, feel the sting of his rings colliding against your flesh. But Michael doesn’t seem interested in that idea any longer, he’s grown bored once again, he needs something new a high that’ll been his taste for the month.

“I forgive you; I can’t expect too much from you. You’re just a human, a pathetic, idiotic little human” He moves, circles his desk and sits in the chair, it creaks under his weight.

“I can leave?”

He laughs, he pushes hair over his shoulder, “You fucking idiot. You’re here to clean, you’ll clean. You’ll use that filthy mouth that loves to talk back, maybe once it’s tired and used you’ll shut the fuck up. Every spot you miss, I’ll lash you with my belt” Michael leans either arm on his desk, hands clasped together in front of him. “That’s seems fair, don’t you think?”

You nod, you thank him. Thank him for giving you a chance to redeem yourself prove yourself to be worthy, to deserve to have him between your thighs once again.

“Good. I’d start soon, this is a big room” He places his feet up onto the desk, reclining back in the leather seat. Eye’s closed and mouth plastered with a smug grin.


	3. appreciate power.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> submit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you miss me? This hasn't been cross posted to my tumblr - yet. But you're more than welcome to follow me.
> 
> While I had thought about this idea before I want to be completely 100% honest where I got the inspiration to finish this fic from, I saw on my dash a blog received an ask (i believe it was the user ccodyfern) and someone mentioned to them a au Cody treats you like garbage and only teats you well when you're with child but is still threatening throughout the whole ordeal, and as someone who writes their Michael accordingly I thought it was only right to do justice.
> 
> https://natrromanoff.tumblr.com

You sit in front of the vanity, psychically you’re there but mentally you’ve placed yourself somewhere else. You weren’t exactly fond of parties and you doubt you need to mention why; the last party had left you in the bad books with your lover. Weeks without release and being at the hand of a man with something akin to a child-like temperament.

But, finally, Michael had forgiven you. He allowed himself not to be caught up in the past, that he had gotten his point across and the punishment he had dealt out was firm but important. Ultimately, you’d learnt your lesson.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a firm line as you play with a strand of hair. You were supposed to be dressed by now, well, fully dressed. Instead you sit, uncomfortably may you add, in an opulent gown. Make-up less and hair still slightly soaked from the shower. When Michael enters you rush to act busy.

“Don’t stress on my account dove” he strolls over, sensual but with purpose.

Hands clasped behind his back in their usual manor.

“I come bearing a gift, a, thank you for putting up with my strong-headed, egotistical few weeks. I know you understand it was of best interest but, what kind of lover would I be if I didn’t reward obedience? Hm?” Michael comes to a stop behind you, eyes trained on yours in the mirror.

“Michael, It’s not necessary you’ve- “

He hums, “I will deem what is and isn’t necessary. Close your eyes”

Though you do feel a slight uneasy feeling in your stomach, you do so. You feel the round cold objects on your throat, slowly sliding up under your chin and to rest softly between your lips in a gag like fashion.

“Do you like it?”

Your eyes flutter open, oh. _Oh_.

“They’re real. I except only the best for you, imagine the envy. They have more uses too” he tugs on the necklace pulling it taught.

Michael had gone out of his way to find you a genuine pearl necklace and for what? A party where he was going to look down his nose on others while you clung to his arm. He wanted others to be jealous of you, Michael loved having his ego stroked this you know for a fact, and showing you off to men and women as not only what he considers the most beautiful thing of gods creations but now, spoilt. It fills you with pride, bashfulness and lust.

“I love it Michael it’s-” you pause as he tightens the necklace around your throat to close the clasp, “ _You’re_ amazing”

He smiles, only slightly. Upturning the outside of his lip barely, he squats down to be level with you.

“I want you to wear these tonight,” Michael's fingers toy with the pearls, “And when asked I want you to say that I got them for you but only, and I mean only, because you’re my good whore and tonight we are to try for a child”

You squirm under his gaze, “Michael…”

He fingers grip your chin, eyes narrow and lips in a snarl, “What will you say?”

You flush, skin hot to the touch, lips tremble, “That I’m your good whore and tonight we are trying for a child”

He hums, eyes closing.

Hearing you say that; his chest swells and his heart pounds. Michael would be entirely lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you swollen with his child since the first time you’d fucked, he’d lie if he said he didn’t have to hold himself back from filling you over and over and over again that night. That when he was busy, engaging in important pressing matters that he wasn’t thinking about you waiting at home, full with his child feeling the baby kick and move when you sing softly to the bump.

He wanted that more than you’d ever know and while there was the pressing matter of having an heir, something that was brought up in casual conversation more than once by the cult, he wanted more than one heir. Two, maybe three, maybe more. Of course, what he was also aware of was the birth, the birth that could result in you no longer walking beside Michael into the new world and he refused to be alone, of course making an artificial version was a very achievable option but something he didn’t want. Not for you anyways.

“Michael?”

You soft voice and touch brings him back, his eyes dark, shining with something…

“I cannot wait till tonight” he murmurs.

“What? -”

He lifts you, hands clasped with yours, turning you. Your hands press into the wooden vanity, breath fogging up the glass in front of you as Michael proceeds to rip the back of your dress open with his bare hands. You feel guilty, hours spent tying up those laces one by one and Michael had ruined such gracious handiwork with one powerful tear.

It’s times like there where Michael makes you feel powerless, as his hands search the skin of your back. It’s an interesting feeling. You’re usually handing out chores or disciplining those who still refuse to conform to the rules laid out. Being able to slip out of control with Michael for a while is soothing.

In a sick way.

Michael sighs heavily through his nose, “When buying those pearls all I could think about was bringing them home to you.” He pauses, running a finger over the clasp, “Woman was nosy enough to ask what they were for, I couldn’t answer”

“Why not?” you look over your shoulder, meeting eyes almost immediately.

“All I could think about was choking you with them, pulling them so tight around your neck you turn blue in the face” he pauses, moans, ruts against the skirts of your gown.

You whimper at the thought, goose bumps covering the uncovered parts of your body. Most notably your back that Michael has begun dragging his nails across, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tries to keep himself under control.

Michael fists your hair, placing it out of the way so he can mouth and bite at the back of your neck. With a grunt he pushes your further into the vanity, wood pressing into your hips painfully through the thin material of your dress, cheek practically pressed against the fogging glass with every breath you exhale.

“Michael” you try, softly.

You’re hoping he’ll let up but, the amount of pent frustration between you both, it hardly seems like something that will actually happen. He had always been possessive of his things and you are just as much one of his things as is his laptop of the boots he keeps impeccable to the point you swear you can see your own reflection in them.

It seems, tonight, Michael has decided to best way to keep your obedience at bay is to give you want you want, want he so desperately wants. A child.

“Shut the fuck up” he growls, the sound sends your cunt pulsing.

He rips a lace hanging from the back of your corset out, lifting your head only to place it around your neck. The ribbon like lace is wound around his fist once, twice, your reigns if you will. He’s making sure tonight there is no possible escape, there is no holding back tonight, you have surrendered your body and most importantly your life to Michael.

His other hand haphazardly pulls the silken fabric up and over your ass, the dress is so thin that you feel embarrassed he may see a wet spot marking the deep cinnamon colour.  He pauses for awhile though, for you it feels like hours, it feels like he’s left you but the pressure of the ribbon pressed to your throat tells you otherwise. He’s there and he’s thinking.

“Your naked”

It’s not a question, it’s fact. You had been sitting here pantie-less and it was mainly because you were contemplating whether or not choosing to forgo them would anger him or appease him.

He’s up and down most days.

“For you,” you’re quick to gasp, “I was going- “

Michael uses to ribbon to pull your head back, resting against his shoulder as he looks down on you. It’s such a powerful position but, it fills you with something. He’s looking down on you as though you’re disgusting that him even choosing to forgive you has lowered his status. That being with you every night causes him nothing but a stomach-churning feeling. And it excites you. It excites you that he feels that way about you, and now you’re embarrassed for two reasons.

“Is that what you wanted?” Michael quirks an eyebrow, face devoid of emotion. “You wanted someone to come in here, take advantage of my toys, does that excite you? To be used by someone that isn’t me. What were you hoping for? I’d come in and rip him apart, fuck you in his organs?”

You don’t answer, he doesn’t want one. Michael never actually wants an answer when he asks a question.

“You know better than anyone, I don’t fuck filthy, useless, whores” Michael flings you forward with the help of the ribbon around your neck.

It doesn’t register at first, but when you see the spider crack in the mirror it clicks. He looks so happy with himself, so pleased that he’s made you bleed a little within his game. Happy enough so, the he grips the back of your right thigh, helping it up to sit onto the vanity.

You’re in a daze from the force of your head hitting the mirror. With a small moan you lift your head, the blood dripping down the side of your face in a small stream. You lock eyes with Michael again in the reflection as he spits into his hand.

“You don’t need to- “

“I _want_ to” He breathes, “Anyways, I know how much you love it when I cover your cunt in my spit. Or, when I spit into my hand”

Michael leans down, hand filled with a glob of spit coming toward your mouth. And you feel shame rise, even more so as you lap up what you can only explain as a gift and Michael is more than happy to watch you with wild eyes. You look like a puppy starved of water for months and will take whatever they can get, and he revels in the fact you’ve switched from licking only the spit to the entirety of his palm.

When he pulls away you whimper and whine, he’s quick to silence with a swat to your ass. Doing so elicits a moan from you, grinding down against the wood underneath you which you’re sure has been stained with slick at this point. His left hand, (which had been holding the ribbon around your throat), leaves to join his right in the removing of his belt. Michael doesn’t even pull his pants down, he simply pulls himself from the confines, spreads you with his thumbs to _truly_ gaze at your one final time before he enters you fully and you cry and the feeling.

A hand reaches above you, grabs onto the fancily decorated wood that surrounds the mirror, the top triangular and carved with vines. He grunting holding an ass cheek in his right hand, staring at you, blankly in the reflection of the mirror. He’s not said a thing while you’re laying there a moaning mess, crying and gargling and _thanking_ him for his cock.

Releasing your ass cheek and instead opting for your throat which harbors a light bruise from his assaults with the ribbon, he first laves at the blood that begun to dry at your temple and then basically orders you to open your mouth.

The pinkie liquid or saliva and blood is spat into onto your tongue rather crudely, like you would if you’d eaten something disgusting or if you were trying to offend someone. It seems even now, in the making of your child Michael will not even do you the common courtesy of handling you with manners.

He pushes two fingers into your mouth, which you gladly suck on while he tilts his chin up in a daze and closes his eyes.

“You have always been so obedient. My favourite. Before you I had almost tied myself to someone,” He cracks his neck before he cranes his neck downward once again, looking down you on, “To think, I would’ve never been able to taste, _feel_ your cunt”

You moan, thrusting back onto his cock. Michael pulls his fingers from your mouth, teeth barred as he pushes you face first back into the mirror again, this rather softly, he doesn’t want to hurt you this time it seems. No. Michael is reaching his end and like always, he won’t let you see his face when he does so. He demands to be in control always if you see even for one moment where that facade shatters, breaks, Michael would not hesitate to take your life.

You hear Michael spit again onto his hand, the feeling of the cold liquid against your clit makes you jump forward and whine. You feel although you’re leaking, your clit pulsing and jumping, heart hammering in your chest. You feel stretched, full, you body feels like it’s on fire and your mouth dry.

He purrs, purrs against your back, mouth open teeth in the skin sucking the blood from the wound.

“This is what you’ve wanted all along isn’t it? To be filled to the brim with my children, to finally have some claim over me,” he chuckles, darkly, “but, I think that’s all a curtain. A charade for the fact of what you really want, what you truly crave is to be tied up and filled. Filled in every one of your holes because, that’s who you are, that’s all you’re good for.”

You shiver, shiver and buck against him, “And now, now you’re going to come from me saying these things, aren’t you? You’re going to cum all over me as I fill you so deep inside it spills out your mouth”

Michael laughs, manically, “Cum. Cum like a whore as I fill you”

And like that, like a wire snapping you buck, wildly, limbs trembling. You feel boneless, in a trance. You can’t remember if you made a noise, did everyone outside hear you? Did you scream, are you crying? You don’t remember.

As for Michael, he’s pressed your head into the mirror. He’s reopened your wound from the force as he cums and you feel it fall down your thighs. You feel guilt, guilt that it’s escaping you and sliding to the floor in a puddle under your heel. Michael pulls away, breathing heavily and pieces of hair stuck to his face in sweat, you can feel where your body is sweating, under your breasts and your right thigh as it sticks to the wood.

“That’s it?” You croak.

Looking over your shoulder expecting something, anything.

“You got what you wanted, there’s nothing more to say”

“Nothing more to say? How about an I love you?”

He laughs, “I love you? _I_ love _you_?” He sneers, bares his teeth, “I gave you a child, a child for your disobedience to come to an end and you sit there an continue the onslaught, it’s truly although you’ve learned nothing, perhaps I did come so deep inside you it went where your brain is supposed to be, is that what lies up there? Come?”

He pushes your head and you grumble, “Stop, stop it Michael!”

“Stop? You want me to stop?” He fists your hair again, “What I just gave you, it’s a fucking gift. You should be praising me, thanking me I’d even dare let you carry my son into the new world. What I gave you, I can take away. Every time, I will fill you and fill you and take and _take_ ”

Your bottom lip trembles, “You don’t mean that”

“Don’t I? You don’t think I will? Dove,” he traces your shoulder delicately with his free hand, “I wouldn’t have to threaten you the way I do if you didn’t treat me as such. And if taking this one thing away from you will make you understand, if ripping this baby from your womb makes you behave, I will do so”

He rubs a hand over your stomach. “Be a good girl and give me a strong boy, and once he’s born you can give me another and another. Get yourself dressed and cleaned up, except my come. Then we will tell of the news and you’ll be good, won’t you?”

“Yes, Michael”

“I do love you. In my own way, once we are sure you are to be swollen with my child, I’ll deliver your punishment accordingly.” He places a soft kiss to your temple, the blood staining his lips as he leaves, slamming the door behind himself.


End file.
